Thursday, 15 March 2012

Brand New Fiction (Chapter 3)

Greetings once again Creatures of the Night and thank you for joining me in The Crypt for another new piece of fiction. 

As regular readers will know I began a story from the picture above but had no title for it. That has changed and I have now completed the third chapter and also, for WIP purposes, tentatively decided on a title. 

This chapter is a little different to anything I have ever written but I consider it is important to the story and therefore hope nobody is offended by the content.

So now I shall shut up and without further ado I am pleased to present, for your reading pleasure, chapter 3 of


Watching Chris as his eyes slowly began to close I wished I knew what to say about Jimmy but, until I had found out more about the man, there was nothing I could say. What I did know though was that Jimmy, and whatever he was, wasn’t the sort of person that scared me. One of my ex-boyfriends could testify to that, at least he could have if he hadn’t treated me the way Jimmy had done Chris and found himself on the wrong end of a twelve inch kitchen knife.
To me people like Jimmy were ten-a-penny and I had met plenty of them in prison, while I was serving three years for manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility. Rolling onto my back and string at the ceiling, Chris’ arm still across my chest, my mind went back to the fateful night that had changed my life forever.
As has started to become the norm my ex had stumbled through the front door of our flat four hours late from work, reeking of alcohol, his clothes in a state of disarray and making demands. Everything from running his bath to getting him some clean clothes laid out on the bed to making him something to eat and, like I always did, I did everything he demanded.
Ever since he had changed his job, and began to work in the city, he had slowly morphed from the caring, loving man that I first met, into the beast that he had become. He had begun to have affairs, well when I say affairs they were more one night stands, quick fucks behind whichever pub or club he had gone to, and he took great delight in his drink fuelled state forcing me to listen to every sordid detail.
I know I should have left him numerous times, all my friends kept telling me so, but I thought that he would change, I thought that the person I met would return one day and everything would be just like it was when we first met. The saying love is blind had never been truer than it was as our relationship deteriorated. It got to the stage where we never spoke to each other, unless we were in bed, and only then when he was calling me all the disgusting names he could think of as he roughly fucked me in every position he could.
Making love became just a distant memory as I let him push my face into the pillows while his cock drove in and out of my ass like a jackhammer, all the time telling me that I wasn’t as good as his latest conquest, until he couldn’t last any longer. Then once he had cum he would just rip his cock from my body, get out of bed, go and get yet more alcohol and then come back demanding even more sex, and this continued until that fateful night that changed my life forever.
As usual he had come home drunk, boasting about his latest back alley bunk-up, making his usual demands and, like usual, I had done everything he wanted. Only this night he stormed into the kitchen after his bath, where I was preparing him something to eat, totally naked, his cock rock hard, his eyes glazed over and demanded that I stopped what I was doing, drop to my knees and give him oral sex.
Ignoring him I continued doing what I was doing, chopping vegetables, and that was when I felt his hand push me roughly forward. His push caused me to stumble forward, cutting my finger as I did so, and I ended up half bent over the sink blood dripping into the bowl of freshly chopped veg. Suddenly his rough hands gripped the waistband of my trousers and ripped them, and my boxer shorts, roughly down my legs.
Pressing his hand into the centre of my back, to keep me in that position, I felt him begin to push the thick, swollen, purple head of his cock against my ass. Tears welled up in my eyes as I clenched my muscles tightly to stop him, only this night nothing was going to stop him, and he continued to try and force his cock into me.
Suddenly I found some strength from somewhere and spun around, the knife still in my hand, and the next thing I knew he was stumbling backwards clutching his stomach. As blood poured from the wound, and the colour drained from his face, I just froze. Staring I watched as he dropped to his knees and looked up at me, a look of pleading in his eyes, but it was only when he screamed at me to help him that I was finally able to move.
Grabbing the phone, with my blood covered hand I hurriedly rang for an ambulance, explained what I had done, dropped everything and moved towards him. With tears blurring my vision I knelt beside him and cradled him in my arms, begging him not to die, not to leave me and, for the first time in months I saw the man I had fallen in love with. Fear filled his pale face, and he mouthed the word sorry before his eyes closed for the final time.
I was still cradling his body, his head in my naked lap, when the police smashed the door down and burst in. They pulled me away from him as the paramedics tried, in vain, to resuscitate him, one officer going and fetching me some trousers as another stayed with me. Once I had the trousers on the first officer handcuffed my hands, behind my back, and led me out of the flat. Glancing over my shoulder as they led me out of the flat the last thing I saw was the man I loved being covered over, the paramedics hiding his lifeless body from my gaze, and I collapsed in floods of tears.
From that moment everything went by in a daze. I was rushed to the police station where, at first I was charged with murder, and held overnight before being rushed to court the next morning. A solicitor I was appointed, as my mind couldn’t think straight, managed to get the charge down to manslaughter on the grounds of diminished responsibility and after a whirlwind trial where the full story of the abuse I had suffered came tumbling out I was sentenced to six years, with the possibility of parole after three. As I was led away from the dock to start my time I swore to myself that no man would ever treat me like he had ever again.
I was still thinking about my time in prison and how I had had to harden up, to survive, when Chris sat up and looked down at me.
“Is everything alright Adam?” He asked.
“Everything’s perfect,” I replied wrapping my arm around his shoulder and pulling him down to me. “Just perfect.”
Chris rested his head on my shoulder and, as I turned my head to look at him, he kissed me lightly on the lips and I decided there and that starting in the morning I would find out everything I could about this Jimmy, and somehow make sure Chris never had to be afraid of him again.
Rolling towards him I kissed him back, told him to get some sleep, and closed my eyes. Our warm naked bodies were as close to each other as possible, almost as if we were protecting each other from both of our fears, our pasts, and I began to feel myself drifting off.

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